From the Bottle
by Archaeobee
Summary: Hermione signs herself up for a dating service, and is suddenly caught up in a tangled web of angst, love and sarcastic humour. Ships are HGRW, HGDM, HPGW, HGSS. [DISCONTINUED]
1. The MagiDate

**_From the Bottle_**

_**By Sarah Sparrow**_

**_Synopsis:_ Hermione signs up for a dating service, and is suddenly caught in a tangled web of angst, love, and sarcastic humour. RW/HG, DM/HG, HP/GW, and even HG/SS...Granger's gotten herself into a bit of trouble...**

**_Author's Note: _Oh my Johnny, it's finally my second fanfiction! I thought this day would never come. And, lo and behold, it's Harry Potter! Yeah, so maybe that's a pretty popular theme. It's special to me, okay?! Thank you. Anyways. The extremely twisted plot was thought up one night in 45 degree weather, while I was being swarmed by mosquitoes and getting a bath by my dog's tongue. It might be a little interesting, to put it lightly. I also have only the faintest idea of how this will all end up, so apologies if quite a bit of editing goes on before the next chapter is posted.**

**And now, without further delay, I give you...**

* * *

**_From the Bottle_**

* * *

Hermione Granger knew she wasn't beautiful. In fact, she didn't even think she had been remotely attractive until she had gotten her teeth shrunk back in third year. And then when Victor Krum had asked to her to the Yule Ball in fourth year, her spirits had risen to amazing heights. Maybe you didn't have to be beautiful. Maybe being sort of pretty was good enough. It was _Victor Krum_, after all!

And then Harry had told her Ron fancied her last summer. She had known since the Yule Ball, at some level, but hadn't really been willing to admit it to herself. She suspected that a boyfriend would be trouble, and she didn't think she was ready for that serious of a relationship yet. It would surely take time away from her studying, and with the NEWTs coming up, she just couldn't afford any distractions. It was for the best. Even if she hurt Ron's feelings. Besides, hadn't it been her who'd told him he had the emotional range of a teaspoon? Who wanted a boyfriend like that? He could go date that Fleur whatever-her-name-was for all Hermione cared.

And yet, she couldn't help thinking, what if it wasn't all that bad?

****

Hogsmeade seemed rather dull and gloomy that Saturday. Hermione sat with Harry in the Three Broomsticks, sipping a butter beer and frowning. Usually the pleasant drink helped her cheer up, but today was different. Today Ron wasn't there.

He had been hinting at asking Hermione on a date to Hogsmeade, but Hermione had played dumb and said "But, Ron, we always go to Hogsmeade together. What do you mean, without Harry? He's not sick or anything." Eventually, a downhearted Ron had left the common room, and a troubled Hermione had collapsed in front of the fire.

He had gone and asked Lavender the very next day.

So now the trio was only a duet, and the gloomy companions strolled along the streets of Hogsmeade, not really looking in any of the shops they stopped at, not really enjoying the butter beer they were now drinking, both thinking of something that wasn't there.

"Hermione?"

A quiet voice interrupted Hermione's blue stupor, and for a moment she hopefully thought it was Ron, saying he had broken it off with Lavender and decided he was better with them after all. But, of course, it was only Harry, and Hermione turned to him with a small smile. She should've known any way. Ron never called her by her full name. Always 'Mione, while Harry was so formal. "Sorry, Harry. Just thinking about- er…Just thinking."

"About Ron?" He returned the smile, green eyes shining with silent laughter.

Hermione blushed, and then sobered. "It's not right here, without him."

"You never seemed to sad when I had to be somewhere else and you two were here alone." He was half serious, half teasing.

"Oh, we missed you Harry, really, we did! It's just, you were never…" She drifted off uncertainly.

"I was never Ron," he finished for her. "You and Ron have always liked each other, even if you fight; in fact, that's probably something to do with it. I don't get why you kept warding him off, Hermione." He frowned at her, but in confusion, not sadness.

Surprising them both, Hermione didn't protest. "I don't know," she mumbled, stirring her drink with her pinkie finger. "I'm just…nervous. About having a-" she blushed, "boyfriend and all. I mean, what if it ruins our friendship? What if he breaks my heart?"

Harry laughed and Hermione stared at him. She was trying to be serious, pouring her heart out to him, and he was mocking her!

Harry saw anger clouding her face and he quieted down. "Sorry, Hermione," he said, still chuckling. "You sounded like some soap opera star. Very _un_-Hermione. But, really, if you want my honest opinion, I think you should have started dating a long time ago. There, I've said it, that's all my wisdom. No charge, though, because you're a friend and all." He gave her his signature lopsided grin, and she couldn't help but grin back.

Harry had always been a good friend, even if he could lose his temper at times. But, then, who could blame him after all he'd been through? And, after Sirius's death, he had become a bit quieter, his temper more of a silent glare and un-talkative coolness, which was surprisingly harder to bear than the yelling. Hermione almost wished he would go back to his old way of venting his rage. But, nevertheless, he still could make her laugh with his dry humour, and he had become surprisingly good looking. All those years of quidditch had paid off, and he was a bit more muscle than unhealthy thinness. His messy black hair was charming in a rogue, 'Sirius' sort of way, and he had taken to running his hand through it absently when he was thinking, just like his father, or so she had heard. His eyes were still a brilliant emerald green, and his smile was true and cheerful. Hermione sometimes wondered why she fancied Ron instead of Harry, the Boy Who Lived.

But, then again, Ron had developed into quite a handsome person as well, with his fiery red hair curling at the nape of his neck, and his bright blue eyes always warm and alluring.

"Oh," Hermione whispered, smiling faintly.

"What is it?" Harry asked. She had drifted off again, and this was the first noise she had made in several long minutes.

"I just realized," she said, her smile growing, "I must be friends with two of the most good looking boys in school."

Harry blinked, and then an enormous grin spread across his face and he burst into a loud, merry peel of laughter, making heads turn and look at him in dismay. Hermione started laughing too, and soon they were both wiping tears from their eyes and grinning foolishly at each other across the table. Maybe the day wouldn't be so bad after all.

The day was, in fact, quite enjoyable, and the two companions were excellent company for each other. Hermione was even a bit sorry when it ended and they had to meet Ron and go back to school. She hadn't thought about him all day.

"Hurry up, Hermione, we're going to be late." Harry tapped his foot impatiently as Hermione paid the woman at Honeydukes and pocketed her candy. She was about to reply to Harry when a store across the street caught her eye. _Magi-Date_, read the sign, and below it, _the dating service for lonely witches and wizards everywhere_.

"Hermione?" Harry asked curiously, wondering what she was staring at.

A thousand thoughts raced through her head at once. A dating service. Lonely witches and wizards…Ron. Ron and Lavender. Ron and Lavender... "Erm, you- you go ahead, Harry. I'll catch you up. I think I might…I just remembered my aunt's birthday. Have to buy her something. I'll meet you back at school."

Harry eyed her suspiciously, and then shrugged. "Okay, bye then." He dashed out to meet Ron, and Hermione, after making sure he was around the corner, walked out into the chilly December air, across the street and into the store.

She came out five minutes later, feeling both extremely pleased and extremely disgusted with herself.

****

Two heads glanced up as Hermione entered into the common room, smiling eagerly and calling out greetings. Hermione nodded and returned their smiles, rushing up to the girls' dormitories to change and put away her packages.

Ron hadn't been with Lavender. She couldn't even see Lavender in the common room, for that matter. For some reason that made her feel very light and bubbly. She walked back down to the common room with a silly grin and dry clothes.

"What're you smiling about?" was the first thing Ron said to her.

"Oh, very polite, how about a 'how was your day?' or 'my, what a lovely jumper, Hermione!' " She glared jokingly at him.

He rolled his eyes and said in an exaggeratingly cheerful voice, "How was your day? My, what a lovely jumper, Hermione!"

"It was perfectly splendid, thanks, and I'm not wearing a jumper, you git." She punched him lightly in the shoulder and sat down on the side of the chessboard they were playing on. "Who's winning?"

"Ron," Harry sighed, scowling. Ron smiled brightly in return.

"There's no point in playing anyways," Hermione said with exasperation.

"Why, because Ron will pulverize me?" Harry asked sourly.

"No, because it's vulgar and barbaric," Hermione replied. "_Exactly_," Ron said firmly at the same time.

All three exchanged rolled eyes. "Honestly," Hermione muttered, and turned to her knitting. She had improved since fifth year, with the hats for the elves, and was now making clothes for herself, but only accessories like the scarf she was currently working on. Trying to sound casual, she asked, "How was the day with Lavender?"

Ron shrugged. "Okay, I suppose."

"That's it?" Harry asked.

"What's it?" Ron replied, his brow furrowed.

"You're not going to share the play-by-play of you two holding hands and strolling down the snow-covered side walks, flirting madly and then snogging romantically in some shadowy side alley?" Harry tilted his head, grinning.

Ron shot a nasty look at him, then shrugged again. "It was boring. She just talked on and on about some book she's been reading and Parvati's problems with Seamus. I don't understand why girls even care about other people's relationships. She kept asking me about you two, but I just said you were doing fine and let her keep talking. She could go on for hours, honestly."

Hermione felt positively golden after that negative little summary, and smiled at her work.

"Hermione doesn't go on about other people's relationships," Harry commented, ordering a bishop to move. Ron's queen immediately smashed it into bits.

"That's what I like about her," Ron replied, smiling at the baffled Harry. "She can just concentrate on her own relationships."

Something about the way Ron said 'her own relationships' made Hermione's spine tingle. She peaked at him out of the corner of her eye to find that he was giving her an unreadable look. "Of course I can concentrate on my own relationships," Hermione said, swallowing. "Especially right now, when I need to." What made me say that?! She asked herself worriedly.

"What's so special about right now?" Ron asked coolly.

Hermione stared holes into her knitting, feeling the blush creep up neck and inflame her cheeks. "Nothing…I don't know."

Harry suddenly stood. "Bloody hell, my detention!" He dashed out of the common room with a quick wink at Hermione.

Ron and her both stared after him in amazement for a minute, then glanced uneasily at each other. Harry really did have detention, Snape had given him a whole week's worth, even on the weekend, but Hermione desperately wished it were an hour later. Perhaps she would throttle Snape in his sleep tonight.

"Good thing he remembered," Hermione mumbled, trying hard to concentrate on the scarf. She was blushing for no reason now. No reason at all.

They sat for another half hour, maybe longer, Hermione couldn't tell, she knitting, and him staring absently just above her head. Then, startling her, he said her name.

"Hermione-" he moved to face her instead of the chessboard. "Could we, err, talk?"

Hermione blushed even brighter, lightly moved her scarf to the side, and forced herself to look him in the eye. "Of course, Ron."

He nodded, then opened and closed his mouth several times, unsure. Finally he managed to speak. "'Mione, erm, I've been…wondering- a- a while…We've been friends for a long time, right?"

"Yes," She said quietly, quite sure she knew where this was leading. Her pulse quickened.

"And, well, maybe, d'you think, we're not…_just_ friends any more?" He gave her an anxious, searching look.

She was about to say 'What do you mean?' and pretend she was confused like she always did. But she knew exactly what he was asking, and fooling him again would be cruel and unfair, especially when she had almost led him on. "I…" She looked at her feet, begging Merlin for some words. "Maybe," She whispered, almost so Ron couldn't hear her, but he did, and just by the single word he gained hope.

He went on quickly. "I mean, if you don't think so, that's fine, but I was just thinking- just wondering- because, well, I've…Yes…I-" his voice lowered so the rest of the common room couldn't hear him, and he said, with a blush, "I really like you, Mi- Hermione."

Hermione's heart fluttered, and for a moment she was afraid she was going to swoon, but she recovered, and looked up again. Ron was no longer blushing, but pale with anxiety beneath his freckles.

She used to count them, when he wasn't looking, trying to remember just how many he had, so she wouldn't forget, if for some reason she ever needed to know. Of course, she wouldn't, but she wanted to count them, just in case.

To her horror, she realized she couldn't get any words out. Ron was staring at her as though her answer would mean his life or death, and she couldn't say a thing! She opened her mouth, but was silent.

Ron leaned back a bit, then stood, blushing as red as his hair. "Sorry," he muttered, "I shouldn't have said-"

Hermione's mind raced frantically. He thought she didn't like him! He was leaving! Go, stop him, say something, she thought frantically. For Christ's sake, he's walking away!

Hermione jumped to her feet and grabbed Ron's hand as he was turning away. He stared at their hands, and then at her in bewilderment.

Dammit, Granger! She couldn't say anything, so she did the only thing she could do. She put her other hand on his cheek and kissed him.

Ron was completely still for several seconds, then, with a sudden wave of his arms, he crushed her in a tight embrace and returned the kiss hard.

Hermione felt warmth rushing through her, and her body tingled. Far away, she heard the common room go completely silent, but she didn't really care. Slowly, uncertainly, she slid her arms around the small of his back. She felt him smile against the kiss, and, assured, she held him tighter.

Then, Hermione realized several people were clapping, and then there was whistling and hooting, and she and Ron both pulled back quickly. Ron held on to Hermione's hand though, making her blush brightly as everyone grinned at them, Seamus and Dean whistling loudly, Neville smiling knowingly and Ginny laughing. Then Harry stepped in from the portrait of the Fat lady, and, seeing Ron and Hermione, laughed and shouted, "About time!"

"Shut up, Harry," Ron muttered, smiling shyly, then turning to Hermione. "You…you want to go for a walk?"

"Sure," she said breathlessly, and they strolled out of the common room hand in hand.

****

Severus was furiously scribbling a note to the headmaster when his next class started filing in. He looked up and groaned quietly. He had forgotten whom he taught on Friday. It was the sixth year Slytherins and Gryffindors. This was, by far, his least favourite class.

Quickly stuffing the note in a desk drawer, he flicked his hair out of his face and glared at them as they took their seats. Naturally, Potter and his friends were some of the last to enter, and, to Severus's horror, he saw that Granger and Weasley were holding hands. Rubbing his temple, he swore under his breath.

When the class was seated and quiet, staring at him expectantly, he slowly stood and walked around his desk, searching his mind for some mentally distilling speech or another. None came.

The Slytherins were all sniggering and glancing at the Gryffindors, particularly Granger and Weasley. Severus didn't have the ability to teach this class today. Merlin knew he couldn't even manage to open his mouth without wanting to hex them all. He was extremely close to just to announcing that class was cancelled, but caught himself. That would attract too much attention from Albus. Merlin also knew he didn't need any more of that.

With another glare, he flicked his wand at the black board and a set of instructions appeared. "Get to work," he snapped. "And kindly refrain from making _any_ noise."

Sensing his bad mood, the students started working quickly, and in complete silence. Almost.

Severus, still standing at the front of the class, was only too aware of the hushed giggling and conversation, coming from somewhere in the midst of the Gryffindors. He scanned them with narrowed eyes. Ah, yes, he thought cynically. The happy couple.

"Granger, Weasley, I believe I asked you to _refrain from making any noise_." Two faces looked up at him nervously. "That'll be-" he was about to talk a small sum of points, ten or so, when he saw they were still holding hands under the desk. "-Fifty points."

The Gryffindors all looked up in shock and indignation, while the Slytherins smiled in sadistic glee. "But sir-" Granger started, flushing angrily.

Severus cut her off. "This is a potions class, Miss Granger, not Madame Puddifoot's. Keep your hands where I can see them and concentrate on the assigned work."

The Slytherins hooted with laughter as both Weasley and Granger jerked their hands apart and, red with embarrassment, put them on the desk. But, apparently Granger wasn't finished. "Sir, fifty points is-"

"Detention-" he stalled. Today was a staff meeting. Tomorrow he had the bloody… "-on Monday, Granger, and if I hear another word come out of your already too large mouth, it'll be for a week." She immediately shut it.

Severus went behind his desk and pulled the note to Albus out again, staring blankly at it. He had no idea what else to say. There had to be some way to get himself out of this, besides suicide. Or homicide, for that matter. The potions master thought back to that morning, wincing in mental pain.

_Flashback_

_Severus was sitting at the staff table in the great hall, inattentively chewing on a piece of cold toast and reading the Daily Prophet, while keeping a wary eye on the doors. He was watching for any sort of movement, trying to listen over the bustle and chatter of the students for footsteps outside the hall, even though he knew the attempt was completely pointless._

_He was almost positive he had just seen movement and was preparing to make a dash out the staff entrance, when a mass of brown and white feathers blocked his vision and landed right on his plate, knocking over his flask of pumpkin juice and spilling it all over his paper. "What the- dammit, bloody…owl!" _

_He tossed the soggy paper to the side and struggled to subdue his winged attacker. He only managed to pluck a cream-coloured envelope from the bird's beak before it flew off, dipping and twirling, out of the hall._

_Tossing his hair out of his face, he glowered at the several students who were watching and giggling, and then turned his attention to the envelope. There didn't seem to be anything suspicious about it, just a plain square with the words 'Severus Snape, Hogwarts' scrawled in untidy printing on the front. It wasn't sealed, so he flipped it open and pulled out a folded piece of parchment with a small coffee stain near the corner._

_He unfolded it curiously, and his eyes bulged as he read the first line:_

**_Congratulations, _**

**Sevrus Snape**

**_You're going on a magi-date!_**__

**Magi-date********_, the service for lonely witches and wizards everywhere, has selected you as our next magi-dater! Your entry form was chosen from the thousands of eager witches and wizards that submit every day, looking for love! We have paired you with a witch/wizard who matches your interests, and found the ideal spot for your date!_**

****

**_Your date is…_**__

_The letter went on to tell him that the 'magi-date' was at some fancy restaurant in Hogsmeade, what time to be there, and that he should dress up nice for his 'mystery witch/wizard', then finishing with the catchphrase **'You'll fall in love so quickly, it'll be like magic! Magi-date!' **_

_Severus glared at the letter in silent fury. Firstly, they had spelt his name like a two-year old, secondly, here on earth did these people get the idea he had signed up for a dating service?! And thirdly, they were gits._

_Suddenly, he felt very vulnerable. If anyone saw that he had gotten a letter from a dating service, his reputation would be at stake. His reputation was all he had left to survive on. _

_He reread the letter several times, sure there must have been a mistake. But the name Sevrus Snape didn't change, and the parchment didn't burst into flame and destroy itself like he was hoping. It just stayed there in his sweating palms, Severus staring at it like it was a snake preparing to strike._

_Finally, his senses recovered (somewhat), and he started to fold the parchment up again, deciding no one would have to know, and he wouldn't have to go on this stupid date. He was just about to stick it back in the envelope when a voice sounded right next to his ear. "Well, Severus, I didn't know you had it in you!"_

_Severus started violently, tipping his chair backwards and swearing angrily. Behind him, setting his chair upright with a kindly smile, was the exact person he'd been trying to avoid earlier. "Damn you, Albus," Severus snapped, pushing his chair back again and standing, seeking the little comfort of facing the headmaster on his feet. One needed all limbs available to manage a conversation with Albus Dumbledore._

_"No need to be vulgar, my friend!" Albus said, raising his hands defensively. "I only meant to congratulate you. When is it, exactly? You folded up the letter before I could get to that part."_

_"I- Well- it's on the sixth but that's-" He was about to say 'none of your business' when Albus interrupted him again._

_"Splendid, splendid. I wasn't aware you were part of a dating service? There are sides of you I have yet to glimpse, Severus. Most interesting."_

_Severus stared dumbly at him. He couldn't believe how utterly nosy and irritating this man could be. He was supposedly the greatest wizard in the world, shouldn't he be going around saving lives and shouting philosophical phrases? What concerns did he have with Severus's social life- or perhaps lack thereof. I've been silent for quite some time, Severus mused absently. Maybe he'll think I've suddenly fallen asleep with my eyes open and go away._

_"Severus?"_

_"…I'm not going."_

_"Well, no, you've hardly had anything to eat yet." He smiled. "That's perfectly acceptable."_

_"Er, no, I mean, that is to say…I'm not going on the, erm, date."_

_Albus blinked. "Why, how could you not? Imagine how hurt your mystery date will be!"_

_Severus couldn't decide if he hated Albus more for using the term 'mystery date', or for even considering for a moment that Severus might care the slightest bit about said person. He hadn't even met the witch!_

_"And, besides, imagine what opportunities it will open up for you! It'll be healthy. In fact, I insist. I'll escort you to the restaurant myself." And with a swish of his robe, Albus left without having any breakfast. Severus decided he had only come to the hall solely to cause his personal inconvenience, and with that assessment, stormed out of the hall._

_End Flashback_

Severus frowned at the blotted parchment. He couldn't see a way to convince Albus to let him off.

A soft whistle broke into his thoughts, and he looked up just in time to see a paper crane land in Hermione Granger's hair, and Draco Malfoy sit down with a rather sour, disgusted look on his face.

Maybe just this once, Severus thought, considering. An angry Lucius was worth it…Severus could deal with him.

"Detention as well, Malfoy. Get back in your seat." Malfoy did so, tumbling backwards. The Gryffindors were looking at their professor in awe and dawning joy, as the Slytherins looked shocked and betrayed. Malfoy had fallen to the floor in alarm. Professor Snape, give someone from his own house detention?! His 'favourite' student, no less!

Severus looked down at his note with a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He had just earned himself some firewhiskey later on.

****

Hermione was sitting cross-legged on her bed, staring ruefully at a piece of parchment. Ron and Harry were both incredibly curious as to why she wouldn't show them the letter, but she didn't dare.

Merlin help her, the magi-date service had actually found her someone.

She hadn't actually expected they would respond. It had been a spur of the moment thing, not something she had been ready for. She had completely forgotten about it after her and Ron got together that Saturday evening.

What to do? If she went on the date she would be cheating on Ron, and she didn't want to ruin their relationship just after it had begun. But, standing up this mystery-date would be almost as mean. She put her head in her hands and groaned.

"'Mione?" A familiar voice called at the door. In all her misery, a momentarily terrified Hermione thought it was Ron, but then she realized boys couldn't get into the girls' dormitories.

"Yes?"

"I thought I heard you wailing in despair," Ginny said cheerfully, turning into the room and landing with a bounce on Hermione's bed. "What's all this?" She looked at the letter enquiringly.

Hermione looked at it for a moment, then suddenly her eyes filled with tears and she collapsed on Ginny's shoulder. "Oh, Gin, what am I going to do?! The dating service wrote back and now I'm dating your brother, and if I go he would break up with me, but if I don't go the date will be so hurt, and I don't want to hurt anyone! I don't!" She clung to her friend's arm and cried desperately.

Ginny stared at her in confusion. "Dating service? Hermione, _you_ are in a _dating service_?" She burst into laughter.

"This isn't funny!" Hermione said, sniffling and wiping her eyes. "I only joined because Ron went on that date with Lavender, I didn't actually expect anything to come of it!"

"Sorry," Ginny mumbled, wiping away tears as well, from her laughter. "But, 'Mione, you have to admit; you joining a dating service is bloody hilarious. Oh, just _imagine_ if Fred and George found out. And Mum would be furious, she'd call you a 'scarlet woman'." She scanned the letter, still smiling.

Hermione chuckled at the Weasley mother's odd lingo and nodded. "Yes…but, really, what should I do?"

"Simple, just go to this restaurant and tell the bloke you've gotten together with someone, and you're terribly sorry but the date is off. He'll have to understand."

Hermione gave the redhead a watery smile and hugged her tightly. "I'm glad I have such an experienced friend," she said, and then added thoughtfully, "Odd that you haven't found another boyfriend yet."

With a nonchalant wave of her hand, Ginny said, "It doesn't really matter to me right now. Dean wasn't the greatest, so I don't really feel like rushed at any boy and proclaiming my everlasting love when they might turn out like him."

"You don't even fancy any one?" Hermione couldn't remember a time when Ginny didn't have some crush or another.

"Well," Ginny blushed slightly. "There might be one boy I'm interested in, but I don't think he's really thinking about relationships with girls at the moment."

Suddenly, realization dawned on Hermione. "You and Harry!"

Ginny gaped at her. "Harry?! Don't be-"

"Oh, but Ginny, you'd be perfect for eachother. I know, I know, you stopped fancying him ages ago, but think about it!"

"But…" Ginny protested blankly. Then, with another blush, she said, "but I'm younger than him and he probably thinks I'm just Ron's silly little sister."

"No, not really. He really admires you for keeping your wit last year in the department of mysteries. You were one of the only ones, you know."

Ginny visible brightened at this. "Really? Did he say that?"

Hermione nodded. "Well, during the summer when he was at the Burrow, he and Ron were talking about it, and Ron said he kept commenting on how brave you were. Ron told me this just a couple days ago. We were trying to think of someone for Harry because we're spending more time…er…alone…now." Her cheeks turned pink, and Ginny giggled.

"So, he doesn't think I'm just the youngest Weasley? Oh, thanks 'Mione, you've really made my day." She hugged her once more and then strolled out, humming cheerfully, as though it had been her who was looking for advice and finally found it.

"So, 'Mione, tell me again why you have to go somewhere Friday night without me?"

Hermione was standing just outside the common room with Ron and Harry, trying to think of a good excuse for having to leave for the soon to be cancelled magi-date.

"I just have to go shopping for something that I've suddenly run out of, Ron, that's all. You would be really bored, it's just some soap and things."

"Ron, just let her go, we can play chess or something 'till she comes back." Harry tugged on Ron's shirtsleeve nervously.

Ron tugged his arm away roughly. "I want to spend Friday night with my girlfriend, thanks!" He stormed off down the hall, scattering a group of whispering second years.

Harry looked after Ron with a hurt look, and Hermione bit her lip. "Oh, Harry, he'll cheer up soon. Thanks for covering for me." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and rushed down the opposite hall, worrying she would be late.

****

Severus gave the seating hostess a hostile glare as she showed him to a table, straightening the silverware nervously and giving him curious glances. Finally, Severus convinced her to run off and get him a glass of firewhiskey, his new beverage of choice as of now.

Why am I here? He thought miserably, staring at the people around him. They were all laughing and talking over their meals, oblivious to the dark cloud hanging over Severus's head.

I should've hexed Albus and made a run for it, he thought. Anything to get out of this.

The woman brought him his firewhiskey and watched him keenly as he took the first gulp. When she was still there a minute after, he glared and she dashed off again.

You could still leave, Severus told himself. You could just get up and walk out. But he'd already ordered the whiskey. He'd have to pay for it.

****

Hermione strolled briskly across the street, straining her neck as she tried to get a better look at the restaurant through its clouded windows. She sighed as she stepped inside to the warmth and the scent of cooking food. "Is the, er, magi-date wizard here yet?" The woman didn't even look at the list before nodding, eyeing Hermione in awe. Oh Merlin, what's wrong with me? She thought anxiously.

The seating hostess came around the booth and motioned for Hermione to follow her into the maze of tables. The restaurant was definitely fancy, with low hanging coloured lights and rich maroon walls. There was a small fountain that drained into a river, with a little bridge going across it.

Hermione took this all in with admiration, and then froze. Sitting at the table just next to the bridge on the other side of the miniature river, was Professor Snape. Her mouth made an 'O' of horror and her limbs turned to stone. Bloody hell, she thought, please don't let him see me. Why did he have to be here, night of all nights? What was he even doing eating out? He didn't look too pleased. Maybe he was meeting someone.

Hermione forced herself to follow the employee, wincing as they headed straight for the bridge. We're going to walk right by him, Hermione realized in anguish. How embarrassing!

She closed her eyes like a child on a roller coaster, not wanting to see the terror ahead.

"Here you are, m'am." What? They were there already? Hermione opened her eyes.

They were standing right in front of Snape's table.

Hermione's jaw dropped. Professor Snape was her date.

The man have her an astonished look. Then he shook himself, glared at her, and said resignedly, "Well, Miss Granger, sit down before you fall down. I didn't realize you and Mr. Weasley were already on such ill terms."

Hermione obeyed, flopping into the chair in dismay. "Pro- professor-" She began weakly.

He held up a hand. "Miss Granger. I'm sure you have just as good of a reason for being here as I do. Waitress, bring her a glass of whiskey as well. I daresay she needs it more than I do." For some reason, the knowledge that one of his most hated students was in as much despair as he was cheered Severus up quite a bit. He found himself able to smile as Hermione gaped at him. "Did your parents ever tell you it's rude to stare, Miss Granger?"

"I- I…What are you doing here?!" She finally stammered. Then quickly turning to the slowly retreating waitress, she said, "Oh, no whiskey please, I'm much to yo-"

"Miss Granger!" Snape hissed. "Do you want me to look like some sort of pedophile?!"

"Oh," she mumbled, then waved to the waitress. "Er…Nevermind."

"And," Snape continued, "in response to your question, I have absolutely no idea. More importantly, are you paying for your own dinner? Because I certainly am _not_."

"Well, I…Yes- but…" She drifted off.

Severus rolled his eyes. "If it makes you feel any better, Miss Granger, I did not, myself, submit to this magi-date service. I suspect some student felt they were avenging a particularly cruel punishment and put in a form under my name."

"But, but…Why did you come?"

"Albus," he answered simply.

"Who's- oh, Dumbledore? But why…On second thought, never mind." Her glass of whiskey arrived, and she took a large gulp.

"Too young?"

"I've just had one of the biggest shocks of my life, for the love of Merlin, _lay off_ Snape."

"Professor Snape," he corrected her absently.

"That's ridiculous. What about you being seen as a _pedophile_? We're on a _date_, Snape, don't you think people would wonder if I started calling you 'professor'?"

"Hmm…you have a point," he muttered, and then added gloomily, "I suppose we have to address each other by first names then."

"Yes, Severus." She grinned impishly.

"Drink your whiskey, Hermione," he snapped in reply. "No, wait, first tell me why _you_ are here."

She blushed and mumbled something.

"Speak up," Severus snapped.

"Because of Ron," She said quietly.

Severus looked bewildered. "He told you to go on a blind date?"

"No! He…I don't usually share my personal lives with professors, sir- Severus." She scowled at him. "Especially professors I don't like."

"I don't particularly think daisies and sunshine of you, _Hermione_, but if you would like me to think you have a mental boyfriend, go right ahead and shut up."

She scowled even heavier. "I submitted a form because he went on a date with Lavender," she told him quickly.

"He, err, _cheated_ on you?"

"No, it was before we were a couple. I was lonely," she admitted, blushing.

"How nice," Severus said blandly. "And yet you came even though you're already dating him?"

"I came here to call the date off, because I didn't want to stand up my 'mystery date'," She told him. "Now, I wish I hadn't come. He's quite angry with me now, and it's all your fault."

"How, pray tell, is it my fault?"

"If you didn't punish your students so much, this would never have happened!"

"I could give you detention for yelling at me, you know."

"Ugh!" Hermione groaned. "That's just it! And, no, you couldn't because we're outside of school."

"Dammit, you're right. And, anyways, it's not my fault that whoever signed me up filled in the same interests as you."

"They- You…I…Ugh." Hermione put her head in her hands. "_You_ don't seem very surprised to see _me_," she mumbled.

Snape frowned thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose I always just took it for granted that someone like you would be in a dating service, and I'm already on my fourth glass of whiskey. Perhaps I should buy the bottle."

"I have a date with my professor and he's talking about wine," Hermione's shoulders started shaking, and Severus stared at her, thinking she was crying. How the hell do you handle a crying female? He thought, more irritated than concerned.

"Do stop crying. You're lowering my opinion of you, which has just raised considerably after you snapped at me."

She raised her face, and she hadn't been crying, but laughing. Her cheeks were flushed and she was smiling devilishly. "Oh, just wait 'till I tell Harry and Ron," she said gleefully.

Severus turned a shade paler than usual, and his eyes narrowed into slits. "You little-"

"Witch?" Hermione finished, still smiling.

"I'll fail you," Severus said smugly.

"You wouldn't dare. That's against the rules." She glared at him, but her eyes were wide with fear.

"You tell, I fail you. Elementary blackmailing, Miss Granger."

She growled something that sounded suspiciously like 'pedophile', and then let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping. "Can I leave now?" She asked weakly.

"Giving up so soon?" Severus asked, his black eyes shining with laughter. "I insist on staying for dinner. If you leave it'll look as if I've been dumped. That earns you a detention right there."

"But Ron-"

"Shut up," Severus interrupted her automatically. She growled again. "I've always wanted to say that to you, you know," He told her happily.

"I've always wanted to shout at you," she replied grumpily. "Odd that I didn't melt into a puddle of fear at the sight of the most infamous professor at Hogwarts." She actually sounded surprised.

"I admit, I would never have thought you to be so outgoing."

"Was that a compliment?" She asked in disbelief.

Severus let out a bark of laughter. "Hardly," he said. "Now, can we order?"

"This is strange, seeing you so…_cheerful_," Hermione shuddered, looking at her menu.

She ended up only ordered a salad, saying she'd quite lost her appetite, and Severus ordered a bowl of Fettuccini Alfredo. "I can't recall the last time I've had a proper meal," Severus said wonderingly.

"But, we have dinner every night in the great hall!" Hermione said.

"I never eat much of that," Snape replied, scowling. "House elves. I don't like slavery, even if they do." He shuddered involuntarily.

Hermione gaped at him. "You- you-" she stammered in a high voice. "You support house elves too!"

"Well, I wouldn't say I support them," Severus said. "What on earth would I support? They love working. And what do you mean, 'too'?" He stared at her in caution, her half-crazed smile slightly frightening him.

"Oh, professor! You have to join SPEW! If I had adult support-"

Severus held up his hands defensively. "What in hell is spew?!"

"No, SPEW. S-P-E-W. The Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare! I started it in fourth year, but I only have a few members. I'm sure if you-"

"Ahh! No! I don't want anything to do with any of your little twisted cults, Granger. Especially ones named after rather foul bodily functions."

Hermione glared at him. "You're just as bad as the rest of them."

"If not worse," Severus said, nodding.

"I can't believe I thought I might get along with you," Hermione continued.

"Neither can I," Severus agreed.

"You're a git," she spat.

"So I've been told," he replied, and she was silent.

Their food arrived and Severus dug in eagerly, while Hermione only picked at it with her fork. "Are you planning on eating that?" Severus asked her, and she shook her head feebly. "Pity," he said seriously. "It's good food." He reached across the table and took her plate from her, finishing it himself in less than five minutes. "Fancy some desert?" He asked, after he was finished.

"No," she mumbled.

"For Christ's sake, Granger, people are probably staring. You haven't eaten a thing and I'm stuffing down all your food like a madman. Eat something before I'm tempted to slap you. You're acting more idiotic than usual, which is saying something." He took another few mouthfuls of food and continued. "Then again, you _did_ accept Mr. Weasley…Rather a startling development for the school's supposedly smartest witch. You honestly out-do eachother in idiosyncrasy, I highly doubt your relationship will live out the week. "

"Bastard," She said, her voice strangely muffled. Severus looked at her closely and saw tears sparkling in her eyes.

He was taken aback. He had made students cry before, Miss Granger herself, but it had never really affected him. Making someone cry who you were supposed to be on a date with had a rather startling influence. He was actually tempted to pat her on the back. But all he did was stare and say "Err."

She looked up now, her mouth set in a thin line and the tears now streaming down her face. "I hate you," she whispered furiously, and then, louder, "I hate you!" She jumped to her feet, upsetting her chair, and threw her napkin down on the table. With an angry moan, she rushed across the restaurant, out the door, and into the cold night.

Severus stared after her in shock, along with everyone else that was dining there. Then they turned accusing looks on him and he squirmed uncomfortably. Dammit, Snape, pull yourself together, he thought sternly, willing himself to look away casually as though nothing had happened. But a part of him felt guilty at causing such a storm of emotions from Hermione, whom he had almost come to willingly being in her company during the last forty-five minutes. Swearing to punish himself later, he got up, tossed some coins on the table, and followed quickly out after his runaway date.

Hermione stormed out of the glass doors, not even bothering to wrap her scarf properly around her neck as the freezing night air hit her unprotected face. Her tears dripped off her cheeks, dampening the neck of her cardigan. She hated him. She hated him with all her body and mind and soul. He was such a repulsive, stuck up, obnoxious _jerk_.

The pools of yellow light coming from the street lamps were like coins in dark water, and Hermione rushed from circle to circle, nervous about being in the dark alone. She could swear she had heard footsteps behind her, but she assumed that was just her being paranoid.

Wiping away the tears from her reddened eyes, she ordered herself to stop crying and act like a grownup. Don't let him get to you, she told herself. He's just a grumpy old codger with no friends and a bad attitude. He wouldn't know a thing about yours and Ron's relationship. Live out the week…It would live out the year, surely!

Okay, that most certainly hadn't been her imagination. Those were footsteps. Just keep walking; it's probably just someone going home late like you, just keep on walking…

"Miss Granger!" She heard Snape's unmistakeable drawling baritone and her body tensed. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you…

The footsteps slowed and her professor appeared at her side, panting slightly, his black robes billowing about his limbs as he walked. Hermione thought he looked rather like a vampire from some old muggle movie.

"What?" She snapped, not turning her head or slowing her brisk pace.

"Erm…Idliketoaplogze," he mumbled.

Hermione stopped in her tracks. She had expected him to want money for her dinner. An apology was…unbelievable. "What?" She asked incredulously.

He sighed in exasperation. "I said, I'd like to-" his mouth twisted as though he had eaten something rather foul, and he finished, "-apologize. I was…Maybe I was a bit rude, and I wanted to apologize."

"Maybe?! You're horrible, all the time, every day. There's not question. I can't stand you. Go away."

"Fine," he said irritably, and Hermione gasped as he melted away into the shadows. She suddenly realized how terribly alone she was. "S-Snape? Professor?" She murmured nervously, peering into the darkness.

Snape suddenly appeared again, as though he had just apparated beside her. "I thought you told me to go away," He said, rolling his eyes.

"Well, yes, but…It's very dark." She blushed in spite of herself.

"So you want me to walk you back to school?" He asked, almost smiling at the irony. "Why would I want to walk with someone who just insulted me after I apologized so nicely?"

"I…Um…" She shuffled her feet and looked down. "Sorry, then," She mumbled.

"Truce, then," Snape said, a little surprised at himself. He was being unusually friendly. It was against all his better judgement.

They walked back to the school in silence, Hermione strangely comforted by the warmth of someone so unfamiliar beside her, and Severus wondering anxiously about himself and his sudden empathetic impulses. They would do horrible things to his reputation.

The school gates finally appeared and Hogwarts castle loomed before them. The companions rushed eagerly through the front doors, shivering from the cold.

After rubbing her hands together and wiping her eyes again, Hermione gave Severus a sheepish smile and said quietly, "Thanks."

Severus, just as shy, replied, "Yes, um…Sorry…again…about all that."

"It's alright, really. Happens all the time. So, um, goodnight then."

"Yes, right," said Severus, and, a bit of his old sarcastic self coming back to him, added, "Our tremendously romantic date comes to a end.

Hermione chuckled softly, and, cautiously, held out her hand. Severus shook it quickly and Hermione mumbled another goodnight, rushing off in the direction of the Gryffindor common room.

****

Severus stood there for quite some time, before turning the opposite direction and heading for the dungeons, down to his private chambers.

"'Mione!" Ron cried, rushing over and squeezing her in a tight hug. Hermione had arrived back at the castle quite late, and the boys had already gone up to their dormitories. Hermione was a little hurt that her boyfriend hadn't waited for her, but she shook it off, telling herself he had been rightly frustrated.

Now it was Saturday morning, and when she came downstairs they both jumped to their feet.

"We thought you had been kidnapped or something," Harry said anxiously. "Ron wanted to go to Dumbledore." He looked slyly at his friend.

Ron blushed and protested feebly, saying he only had Hermione's 'best interests in mind'.

Hermione laughed and told them she had taken a bit longer than she had expected, then gone to the library to look something up. They rolled their eyes but, naturally, believed her, and the night was dismissed. "We can spend this night together," She promised Ron, and he gave her a hearty kiss and agreed.

Harry just smiled foolishly.

****

They spent the day outside in the snow, a fresh white layer that had fallen over night, and was still coming down in large fluffy flakes. Almost all of the sixth years were included in a massive snowball fight, including Ginny and Luna Lovegood.

Hermione hit Ron with a particularly good shot, and, laughing, he dove at her and the tumbled to the ground in a flurry of snow. Laughing and shouting protests, Hermione tried to get up, but Ron had landed on top of her, and he hadn't moved. "Ron," she said, smiling, "get up, will you, you're…" She trailed off when she saw his expression.

Slowly, tantalizingly slowly, he lowered his lips and kissed her, only just grazing her lips. Hermione shuddered and stared at him in awe, her senses on fire and becoming increasingly aware of Ron's hand sliding him her side. "Ron," she breathed.

Suddenly, they were kissing fiercely, limbs entwined, tongues teasing each other and hearts beating through their chests.

A startled cry made them break apart. "Hermione!" Ginny shouted, staring at her friend and her brother in a mixture of disgust, shock, and amusement. Half the snowballers came running, and Hermione and Ron hastily stood and started brushing the snow off their clothes. Hermione's jacket had come off and Ron was lacking his toque and scarf.

Everyone stared at them curiously, wondering what all the fuss was about. "They were snogging like there was no tomorrow, seriously," Ginny exclaimed, gagging. "Anyone could've found you two, you're lucky it was only your sister, Ron," she told him seriously.

"Yeah, sure, lucky," Ron muttered, scowling. Hermione blushed under all the stares of her friends.

"Well, who cares, they're bloody dating, let them have some privacy!" Harry's voice was like music to Hermione's ears, and she gave him a grateful smile. Everyone nodded and eventually started tossing snowballs again, but the rest of the day Hermione's heart fluttered and her cheeks burned much more than normal whenever Ron smiled at her, and she was so very sure that this was what you called love.

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**There you have it. The first, rather lengthy chapter (for my standards) of my second chaptered fanfiction. Knock yourselves out.**

**...Oh, and honestly, if I don't get reviews for this, I won't continue it, because I'm terrified that it's horrible. I never write Harry Potter stuff. So, a lack of reviews would be quite a big hint that it's horrible, hence, deletion.**

**Ta!**

**xoxoxox**

**Sarah**


	2. Change

**_From The Bottle _**

**_By Sarah Sparrow_**

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**_Author's Note:_**** Bring on the next chapter. I'm going to choose a better time to post now, yesterday it was around one in the morning, which I'm sure effected my review intake (or, you know, just me making up sad excuses to comfort myself.) I actually got a review the other day, asking me to make the chapters shorter. Wow. Never thought I'd hear that one.**

**By the way, you can check my writing status in my profile. I'll usually put up how far I am on the next chapter and such.**

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**_From The Bottle – Chapter 2: Change_**

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On Monday morning, Hermione was sitting at the Gryffindor table in the great hall. She looked solemnly down at her porridge, absently stirring it and thinking of the house elves that she might be insulting if she didn't eat it.

"'Mione? Are you alright?" Ginny lightly nudged her in the side. Hermione slowly looked up at her friend.

"Mm, yes, fine," she replied absently. She hadn't told Ginny the total truth about the surprising events on Friday, and as such, couldn't tell the redhead what was bothering her now.

They had double-potions on Monday.

Everyone talked cheerfully for the rest of breakfast, and Hermione felt her gut lurch as people started leaving for classes. "Hurry up, we don't want to be late for potions," Harry urged her as she gathered her book bag. "Speak for yourself," she muttered under her breath, wishing fervently for something to cancel class. The last thing she wanted was to face Snape again.

Severus groaned as students started leaving the Great Hall. That meant it was class time, which meant he had to go teach, which meant there would be sixth year Slytherins and Gryffindors to handle, which meant Hermione Granger.

"Quite alright, are you, Severus?" The headmaster questioned as he passed him.

"Never better," Severus answered without looking at him. He had managed to keep Albus out of the light about his date on Friday, simply saying that the girl had gotten a boyfriend and they had dinner as friends. It was the truth, partially. He couldn't say he and Hermione were friends.

With a dejected sigh, he rose from his seat and followed the rest of the professors out the staff entrance.

Snape wasn't yet in the classroom when Hermione got there. She let out a deep breath and started unpacking her things, Ron on her right and Neville Longbottom on her left. She pulled out her books and her cauldron, and then paused as she felt the unfamiliar crinkle of paper in her bag. Frowning, she pulled it out to find the note Draco Malfoy had tossed at her last lesson. She had been surprised at it, because ever since Malfoy's father had been sent to Azkaban, he had been a bit of a loner, even Crabbe and Goyle avoiding him. He hadn't really bothered Harry or his friends the entire school year.

When she had gotten the note, she had had to stuff it in her bag because Snape had started talking. Now, she unfolded it and read the few words scrawled across it. _"Bad choice, Granger."_ Hermione read it over several times, angry because it obviously was referring to Ron, but bewildered at the fact that after all the months of silence, Malfoy had suddenly decided to taunt her again. It made no sense.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a voice sounded next to her. "What's that, love?" She blushed and smiled as Ron used his new pet name for her. "It's nothing," she replied quickly, stuffing the note back in her bag.

With a load bang, Snape burst into the room, the door swinging open wildly. Everyone started and turned to look at him. Hermione shrunk in her seat.

Coming up to the front of the class, the professor raised his eyebrows and stared at them all. The students all looked back timidly and hatefully, as they always did when his towering black form entered the room. Like last lesson, he flicked his wand to make a set of instructions appear on the board, and murmured, "Get to work. In silence."

Severus sat at his desk, grading fourth year essays, basking in the precious silence. This time, there weren't even any giggles coming from the Gryffindor section. Just complete, lovely silence.

And he was bored.

Slowly standing, he made his way to the front of the class, then started weaving through the lines of students, observing them work and docking points wherever he saw a mistake. The potion was a bit difficult, a remedy for heavy blood loss, one he hadn't tested his students on before; but _this_ generation would need it if Dumbledore's fears were correct.

True, Voldemort had been lying low since his inner circle of deatheaters were recaptured, but the peace wasn't expected to last. Like the quiet before the storm.

He now went through the Gryffindor rows, pausing at Neville Longbottom's cauldron, which was, as usual, entirely incorrect. "Ten points from Gryffindor, Longbottom," Severus said coolly.

The boy looked up at him fearfully, "But, sir," his voice was a high squeak, "Nothing's happened. Why-"

As Severus had expected, the thick mustard-yellow potion (it was supposed to be a watery dark orange) suddenly bubbled and let out a loud popping sound, little drops of the potion splattering on the table. Then the cauldron bulged and started to melt, dripping down its stand and instantly forming an odd, bread-like crust. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at it.

"Because of _that_, Mr. Longbottom. Clean it up."

Hermione winced as the cauldron bubbled, then melted down into a puddle. So much for trying to help Neville.

She hurried to move her belongings away, accidentally getting some of the potion on her hand as she grabbed a parchment that had been sprayed with the stuff. "Oh!" she cried softly as half of her palm was enveloped with a strong stinging sensation. Tears welling up in her eyes, she turned to Ron on her other side. "Ron," she whispered anxiously. He immediately stopped stirring his potion and turned to her. "Ron, some of the- some of it got on my hand," she murmured, hastily wiping away her tears with her clean hand. "It's burning."

Ron stared at her palm in horror and cradled it in his hands, nudging Harry on the other side of him. "Tell Snape," Harry whispered urgently.

"Snape's a stupid gi-" Ron started, scowling.

"He'll know what to do," Harry insisted.

Hermione sniffled as the thick yellow substance on her hand bubbled a bit, sending a sharp sting up her arm. "Ron, tell-"

"I'm sure your conversation is frightfully interesting, Weasley, Potter, Granger, but in Potions class, people generally work on _potions_." Snape interrupted their conversation with a smirk.

"Hermione's got some of Neville's potion on her hand, sir," Harry said loudly. Neville immediately started stammering apologies and all the people near them leaned in for a closer look.

Snape's eyes widened and he rushed back over to where Hermione and Neville sat, pushing students out of the way. Ron growled as the professor kneeled down and took Hermione's hand from him.

Hermione felt blood rushing to her cheeks as the professor examined her hand, but was in too much pain to be too embarrassed. She was acutely aware of Snape's own hands gently holding hers, and she greatly wanted to tug hers away.

"I can't heal this with a spell," Snape muttered finally. Louder, he said, "everyone, continue with your potions while I take Miss Granger to the hospital wing."

"Sir, I can take her," Ron said, looking frustrated.

Snape sighed exasperatedly. "No, Mr. Weasley, you cannot, seeing as I am the only one who can tell Madam Pomfrey exactly what was in the potion. I will have no further protestations from you." Turning back to Hermione, he said, "come," and led her out of the class.

"Is it serious, sir?" Hermione asked quietly as Severus led her down the halls. He looked back at her, walking quickly behind him.

"You will make a complete and quick recovery, Miss Granger, if that's what you're worried about. I highly doubt Madam Pomfrey will want to keep you so long that you miss your precious final exams, or your hand will need to be amputated…unfortunately."

He saw her smile faintly and turned back to look ahead of him. Now that he had been with her in a more intimate situation, her injury had been a little more personal. Not much, but just enough that it mattered more than another student.

"Thanks for being so sympathetic," she murmured sarcastically.

"You're welcome," he replied seriously. "It would surprise you to know that I _do_ actually worry about my pupils."

"Do I still have to report for detention tonight?"

He gave her a surprised look. "Of course. Don't jump to conclusions, Miss Granger. I'm not _that_ worried."

She sighed.

"So you're going to be okay?"

"Yes, Ron, I'm going to be fine! Stop worrying! Honestly, you'd think I was your little sister or something." Hermione sat on a couch in the Gryffindor common room, Ron examining her now bandaged left hand and driving her crazy with questions.

He wrinkled his nose at her response. "Not my little sister, 'Mione, my _girlfriend_. I can worry over my girlfriend, can't I?"

"Yes, but not like an obsessed maniac!"

Ron huffed. "I'm not-"

"That's the sixth time you've asked her, Ron," Harry told him on Hermione's other side, smiling.

"Who asked you," Ron muttered darkly.

"It's okay, Ron, I'm touched that you're so worried; but…don't overdo it." She smiled fondly at him, a smile he returned sheepishly.

"Sorry." He leaned in and gave her a light peck on the lips, which Hermione returned with vigour, and soon they were kissing heatedly.

Harry groaned. "If you two are going to get into that, I'm leaving."

Hermione chuckled behind the kiss as Harry got up and moved over to where Dean and Seamus were playing chess. After a bit, she pulled away breathlessly, flashing a smile at Ron and then looking at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. "I've got detention with Snape in half an hour," she said gloomily.

"Snape," Ron growled, grimacing. "I bet he was completely rotten when he took you to the hospital wing."

Hermione didn't say anything, but in her head she knew Ron was wrong. She was surprised how comforting Snape's dry humour had been. She smiled, thinking about how before the date she would have been insulted, but now she just took it like a joke. What was even more surprising was that now, that was actually how he meant it too. Or, at least she thought he did. Well, either way, he couldn't be all that bad. He had even stayed after he had told Madam Pomfrey what had happened, watching the mediwitch bandage Hermione's hand.

She would never tell Ron that.

Malfoy was already there when Hermione entered the potions classroom, and she felt a little pinch of annoyance. He was supposed to drag his feet in, ten minutes late and scowling. Coming before her, and she was even _early_, completely threw off her perspective of him. Hermione hated it when her perspectives were thrown off.

Then again, Malfoy had been acting out of her perspective for the entire school year.

He didn't turn when she came in, didn't even say anything when she came to stand beside him in front of Snape's desk; he only continued his odd stupor-like staring at nothing, so she took a little time to observe him.

He didn't wear his hair slicked back any more, since it had grown too long. Now it just hung layered around his face, following his jawline and ending at about his shoulders. His eyes, she now realized, had more grey in them than blue, a bit like ice against water. He was considerably taller than her, maybe just an inch or so below Ron, and playing quidditch had filled out his frame, so now his build was more healthy and lean than gangling and oblique.

Despite all of this, Hermione knew he still looked pretty much the same…but then why did he seem so different? Almost like a complete stranger, like she was seeing him again after five years instead of one summer. Maybe it was his face, the way it was so stoic now, instead of mocking or sneering. He had sort of a glacial angelic beauty about him, Hermione decided with surprise. If she didn't know his true character, she might even take a fancy to him.

But, did she know his true character any more?

Losing one's father, she imagined, especially if it was because of such a horrible cause, would definitely change a person, even one as cold-hearted as Draco Malfoy. Perhaps that was why he had left them alone all this year. He simply didn't have a reason any more. Hermione didn't know much about Draco's mother, except that she was part of the Black family. But, maybe she wasn't a deatheater? Suddenly, Hermione had a weak hope that maybe Malfoy had 'seen the error of his ways'.

Then she remembered the note, and she hated him again.

"Am I that fascinating to gawk at, Granger?" A soft voice murmured, and Hermione took several moments to realize it had been Malfoy. Her blank face immediately took on a heavy scowl.

"I was trying to see how long it would take your thick head to react," she replied snappishly. "Still in shock about getting detention from your favourite professor, ferret?"

He flinched visibly at the name, but didn't say anything.

When Severus entered the classroom, he could already see that Granger and Malfoy had had a go at eachother. Hermione was red in the face and scowling, while Draco stared straight ahead with his jaw stuck out noticeably.

"You will be scrubbing cauldrons this evening, Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy. _Without_ magic." He moved behind his desk and raised his eyebrows at them. "No questions? How refreshing." He waved his wand and the desks moved to the side of the room, immediately replaced by a set of several dozen pewter cauldrons. "Here are your cleaning supplies." He handed them a sponge and bucket each. "Get to work. I'll be in my quarters."

He lingered for a moment, watching them resignedly kneel down to the nearest cauldron and begin scrubbing. "If I find any missed spots, you'll be doing them again."

Hermione looked up angrily, her brown eyes flashing. "Yes, Miss Granger?" Severus asked mockingly, challenging her to answer.

"Nothing, sir," she mumbled, looking down.

"That's what I thought."

It had to have been at least an hour since Snape had swooped in and out with their orders. Neither Hermione nor Draco had said anything in that time, and Hermione was starting to go crazy in the silence. The constant scratch of brush bristles against pewter made her jittery. She opened and closed her mouth several times, sneaking glances over at Draco, who was scrubbing his cauldron with fierce concentration.

"Wha- What did you mean…by that, err, note?" She finally stammered.

"I'd think it would be obvious to someone with your brains, Granger," Malfoy answered between heavy breaths, without looking up.

Hermione huffed and kept scrubbing, her fingers raw from rubbing against the metal of the cauldrons. "Well, yes, you were insulting Ron," she paused, glaring at him. "But, why? You've left us alone all this year and suddenly you start _taunting_ me again."

"I wasn't taunting you," he said indignantly, which made Hermione look up in surprise. Why would he deny it?! "I was simply sharing my thoughts."

"Since when were you, _Malfoy_," she spat the name like some foul food, "concerned about _my_ social affairs?"

"Hardly concerned, _Granger_. I only was surprised at your choice, when you're supposedly the smartest witch in the school. Why wouldn't you go for someone famous, like Potter? At least he has a minimum amount of intellect. Not like Weasley."

Hermione reached into her robe pocket and clenched her fist around her wand. "Don't you _dare_ insult Ron, you filthy, stuck-up _git_." Her voice was a threatening purr, anger making the words quaver.

The slytherin appraised her coolly. "Go ahead and hex me, Granger, if it'll make you feel better." He looked back at his cauldron and kept on scrubbing.

Slowly, Hermione flexed her fingers and turned back to her cauldron as well. His words played over and over in her head, her teeth grinding furiously, until she realized completely what he had said. "You just complimented Harry," she exclaimed softly.

Malfoy looked up, his brow furrowed. "Yes, I suppose I did."

"You _never_…" she was at a loss for words.

Malfoy glared as she gaped at him. "Some things _change_ a person, alright, Granger?" He growled and grated the brush along the inside of a new cauldron with refreshed fervour.

"What could _possibly_ change you enough to make you compliment Harry?" Hermione asked skeptically.

With an echoing clang, Malfoy dropped his brush in his cauldron and stood. "Ever heard of _self-realization_, Granger?" His voice was low and vibrating with emotion. "Ever thought that maybe, just _maybe_, I might be effected by things too? But you wouldn't know, would you, what it's like to have your family destroyed, to have your father, your idol, locked up in prison and your mother an inch from death at the hands of the most brutal murderer of all time?"

Hermione let go of her own brush and slowly started crawling backwards, looking with fear up at Malfoy, who was moving slowly towards her as his voice grew louder.

"Ever been forced into a life you didn't want, but had to live anyway to save your own life? Have you ever just been _alone_, Granger? Just so desolate that you can't even find _yourself_ any more?"

Hermione scrambled to her feet and moved around the cauldrons as Malfoy came closer, his lip curled and his eyes blazing.

"You can't possibly imagine _change_, Granger. You can't even grasp the very tip of it, can't get close to the edge where everything drops away and all that's there is _darkness_ and _death_."

He was now only a few feet away from her, and then with one giant step they were nose to nose, and Hermione could feel his cold breath on her face, and see the white fire burning somewhere in the back of his eyes. The depth of his speech frightened her, and she felt tears building up in her eyes as he grabbed hold of her arms.

"So don't you _bloody_ treat me like some sort of emotionless worm, Granger," he hissed, "don't even _try_."

"Mr. Malfoy, I will give you five seconds to leave this class immediately before I hex you beyond recognition." Hermione welcomed Snape's voice like an angel sent from heaven, and she almost fell to her knees when Malfoy let go of her.

"Yes sir," he growled, and with one lingering stare, he turned away from her and started towards the door. Snape watched him go from the opposite end of the room, where the entrance to his quarters was, with his hand clenched over his robe pocket.

As Malfoy was about to step out of the room, Hermione choked out, "Malfoy…Maybe I don't know, but- but I bet you Harry does."

He stared at her in shock for a moment, and then quickly exited, slamming the door behind him.

Severus gaped as Malfoy walked out the door, and then almost jumped out of his skin when Hermione tumbled backwards.

"For the love of Merlin," he grumbled quietly, moving to help Hermione to her feet. She shakily accepted his hand and sat down on a nearby cauldron.

"Erm, sorry, professor," she said anxiously, blushing and brushing off her perfectly clean robes.

"I think we're a bit past formal titles now, Granger."

"Right," she said absently, her voice still quavering, "Snape."

"Uh…I hope Mr. Malfoy didn't…er…cause any…er…"

"No, I'm fine, thank you," she told him a little more firmly. "Just, just shaken up is all." Then she added with a weak smile, "why are all you Slytherins suddenly changing?"

Snape raised his eyebrows, sitting on a cauldron next to her. "How have I changed?" He asked sourly.

"Oh, well, I used to hate you," she told him brightly.

His eyebrows rose. "How kind of you to say so. And now, you suddenly don't?"

"Well, you never made jokes around me before," she said thoughtfully. "And I suppose going on a date with you helped."

"Err, quite. And how is Malfoy changing?"

"His father's arrest has really…affected him. He was very, well, deep, just now, if a bit frightening. And he hasn't insulted me for ages."

Snape snorted. "Charming."

Hermione then frowned. "You didn't take any points away. He manhandled me!"

"My main focus was on getting him away from you," Snape commented resentfully. "I wasn't necessarily thinking about Gryffindor justice at the time."

"Oh, sod off," Hermione said irritably. Then she looked at him oddly.

"What?" He asked shortly, feeling uncomfortably self-conscious. He instinctively moved back as Hermione burst into laughter. "Err, Miss Granger? Are you feeling…quite…well?"

She laughed until tears came to her eyes, and then kept chuckling softly as she wiped them away and got to her feet. Snape was still sitting on his cauldron, looking rather affronted.

"I'm sorry, professor- Snape, I mean," she sighed, a little bit of laughter escaping. "But, don't you think it's odd? Us sitting here on a pair of cauldrons, talking like old friends, even about our _date_, when less than a week ago you were just the slimy potions professor and I was the insufferable know-it-all." She paused and looked at him thoughtfully. "I can't believe it, really. I can't believe I just said all of that either. I can't believe I'm saying this to _you_!"

"'Slimy' is hardly how I would describe myself," Snape said, scowling. Hermione burst into another fit of laughter. With a floppy wave of her hand, she said breathlessly, "goodnight, professor," and left.

Severus stared after her, as he seemed to be doing after each of their odd encounters. He supposed it was to regain his footing.

Later that evening he realized he had never actually dismissed her from detention.

Hermione didn't go straight back to the Gryffindor common room, but decided to sit at the library for a while and read something to calm herself down. Madam Pince had actually given her a late pass to the library, since she was always there, and now she could go out even past prefect curfew, and read whatever she wished.

She idly grabbed an unfamiliar title from the shelves and collapsed into a chair. _William Dethridge: A Biography_ read the title. Hermione cocked her head. She had heard of Dethridge. He was a famed alchemist in the Elizabethan era, one of the few great wizards to ever stay in the muggle world. Apparently he had been tried and condemned for witchcraft to death by burning, but had disappeared before the sentence was carried out. She read the first few chapters and decided to check out the book to read it later, when she had more time to enjoy it.

When she finally did return to Gryffindor Tower, Ron was sitting on the couch waiting for her.

"'Mione!" he greeted her cheerfully, smiling sleepily.

"Ron, it's past midnight," Hermione exclaimed. "What are you still doing here?"

"I wanted to make sure you got back from detention with Malfoy unscathed," he said jokingly.

Hermione sat down on the couch beside him and he pulled her into a laying position, so they were on their sides with him behind her, facing the fire. He wrapped an arm around her waist and she covered his hand with hers. "'Mione," he whispered into her hair. She turned onto her back and looked at him.

His fiery red hair was tousled from dozing on the couch, and Hermione was tempted to tangle her fingers in it. His wide blue eyes looked at her warmly, crinkling at the corners when he smiled. She smiled back faintly and reached up to trace his jawline with her finger.

She was lost in fantasy and half-slumber, one side of her warmed by the crackling fire and the other by Ron's body. She felt herself just starting to drift off to sleep when his quiet voice broke through her reverie. "You're tired," he said softly. "You should go to bed."

"No," she groaned contentedly, shifting so that they faced eachother and resting her head in the crook of his neck. "I'm comfortable here."

He smiled and nodded slightly, wrapping both arms tightly around her. "Goodnight, then," he murmured.

"Goodnight," she replied softly.

"'Mione?"

"Mmm?"

"I-" he sighed. "I love you."

She stirred slightly and looked up at him, beaming sleepily. "I love you too, Ron," she said, and they both fell into a deep slumber.

* * *

****

**Awwww. Isn't that sweet. I liked the Draco-with-depth part better though, hehe. Isn't this getting interesting?**

**William Dethridge was, in fact, a real person, just like Nicholas Flamel. That book will be showing up in later chapters.**

**I need some feedback here, which pairing are you guys rooting for? Because I'm honestly not sure which one I'm going to make Hermione end up with.**

**Ta, loves.**

**xoxoxox**

**Sarah**


	3. Cheat

**_From the Bottle _**

**_By Sarah Sparrow_**

****

**_Author's Note: _****Well, I'm incredibly happy because all the reviews I received were under the Hermione/Snape influence. That happens to be my favourite 'ship. You all kick ass.**

**I went back and edited the last chapter after finding a bunch of mistakes near the end. Maybe I should stop writing really late at night. It was almost three AM when I finished chapter two…D'you think that affects my writing?**

**Bah.**

**So, so sorry for the delay in updating, but the internet failed on this incredibly stupid computer, and then my family bought a new dog, so I've had to take care of it. No time at all for writing.**

* * *

**_From the Bottle – Chapter 3: Cheat_**

* * *

The weeks flew by with surprising quickness for Hermione. She couldn't remember the last time they had had such an uneventful school year; on a larger scale at least. She was expecting Voldemort to pop his ugly face up and snatch Harry away in the middle of class, but everything went by smoothly and there were no signs that the Dark Lord had any new vile scheme in mind.

She and Ron had been getting along fine, despite the slight itching at the back of her mind, always reminding her of what Snape had said on their date and what was written on Malfoy's note. For some reason she hadn't thrown it out, but kept it at the very bottom of her trunk like some sort of guilty pleasure. It was anything but pleasure, however.

Potions class had even improved, at least for her. He still sneered at Harry and gave Ron horrible grades, but he left Hermione alone now. She had gotten the first 'E' on a potions essay awarded to a Gryffindor (that she knew about) only a week after that detention, one she had been deserving for years, which all her friends gaped at.

It wasn't as embarrassing to be around Snape as she had expected it to be after the date, but rather like a silent recognition of eachother; a bit of an inside joke, even. She wondered why he was always so bitter around other people when she now knew what a good companion he could be. She could even imagine Harry liking him if he had always acted like he now did around her.

The thing to break the long chain of lazy monotonous school days happened only a week before Christmas holidays, when she, Ron and Harry were on a trip to Hogsmeade shopping for presents.

"Er…Are you getting tired, 'Mione?" Ron asked nervously as they walked past The Three Broomsticks.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I'm fine. I still need to buy something for Ginny, could we stop at-"

"Because," Ron interrupted her, "you could always just go in and get a drink while Harry and I get our, er, you know…other presents."

Hermione blinked. "Really, Ron, I'm quite okay."

"Are you sure? Maybe you should just stop, you know, just in case-"

"He wants to go buy your present now, Hermione," Harry finally blurted out, rolling his eyes. Ron glared at him and blushed.

"Why didn't you just say so?" Hermione asked him in bewilderment.

"Uh, well, I thought-"

"He thought it would be more romantic and intelligent of him to fool you into stopping for a drink," Harry told her.

"I don't need a bloody translator," Ron spat at him.

"Sorry, Ron, I just didn't think Hermione spoke Prat." Harry grinned slightly and Hermione laughed.

"Ron, it's okay, I'll just go get a drink," she said, picking her bags back up.

"No use now," Ron grumbled. "You might as well come and pick it out with me."

"Don't be ridiculous," she replied. "Honestly, _boys_…" With a kiss on the cheek for Ron and a short wave at Harry, she strolled into the pub.

"Bloody brilliant of you, Harry, just going and telling her all our plans!" Ron exclaimed in frustration.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Well, you were going about it like Dudley would've, I thought I'd just help you out before you made a complete idiot of yourself."

"Whatever," he grumbled in reply. "Let's just go to that shop, whatsitcalled, Arnie's Abominable Girl-things."

"Abigail's Adorable Accessories," Harry corrected him absently. "Erm, listen, why don't you go ahead and choose something for her, it's a couple thing, I'm sure you'll want to do it alone."

"Where are you going?" Ron asked skeptically.

"Oh, I've got to meet someone," Harry told him with reservation, and before Ron could ask who, he waved him off and walked around the street bend out of sight.

The Three Broomsticks was warm and inviting, and Hermione was thankful she had been the one getting out of the icy weather outside. She unwrapped her frosted scarf and unceremoniously pulled off her toque, flopping down at an empty table with a contented sigh. She quickly ordered a butterbeer and let the drink's warmth spread through her chilled limbs.

She sat there dreamily, just watching all the customers laugh and talk with their companions, finding every person oddly fascinating.

She was about to take another gulp of butterbeer, lifting the glass up to her lips and tilting her head back, when she saw Harry walk in the door. Huh, she thought curiously, they're back fast. She got to her feet and was about to call him over when he turned away from her and smiled at someone next to him. A group of people was blocking Hermione's view so she couldn't see who it was, but Harry was obviously glad to see the person and talking animatedly. After about a minute of friendly conversation, Harry walked out again, and Hermione caught a glimpse of a dark blue scarf flutter at his side.

Wondering who on earth Harry left with without her, Hermione moved from her table and started towards the door when a hand grabbed her shoulder. She spun around to see a solemn Draco Malfoy, all in grey and black, standing before her.

"Can we…talk a minute, Granger?" He asked quietly, motioning to her table.

Hermione, all thoughts of Harry lost from her mind, nodded dumbly and sat back down. She watched Malfoy with wide eyes as he cautiously sat down in the seat across from her, keeping his gaze locked on the table.

"I'd like to apologize," He said slowly, like he was tasting a new food.

Hermione closed her eyes tightly, shook her head, and then said, "I beg your pardon?"

He sighed impatiently. "I'm saying sorry."

Hermione gaped at him. "Well, um…Thanks…What for?"

"What for?" He wrinkled his nose. "Because of what happened in detention, obviously."

"But…that was almost a month ago!"

"So?"

"You haven't just, you know, forgotten?"

"Have you?"

"Well, no…"

"And neither have I."

They were silent for a moment, then Hermione said, "but why did you apologize?"

"Because I was rude and acted inappropriately," he replied stiffly.

Hermione let out a bark of laughter. "Malfoy, you've been rude and acted inappropriately for the last five years."

"Yes, well, sorry for that too then," he said earnestly.

Hermione couldn't help it. She giggled.

"What?!" He asked in frustration.

"Sorry, mmph…It's just, you sound so funny." She was now shaking and covering her hand with her mouth.

"I'm trying to be serious," he huffed, looking offended.

"I know, but if you were me-"

"Which I'm not, so shut up," he growled.

With a few last chuckles, she took a deep breath and sobered. "You realize I can't really sincerely accept your apology for the last five years," she told him, surprised a bit when his face fell. "I mean, I've hated you more than anything except your father and Voldemort."

Malfoy flinched at the name, Hermione couldn't tell which, and nodded. "What about the apology for detention?" He asked weakly.

"Why are you so adamant to apologize?" Hermione asked, cocking her head.

"I feel guilty, evidently."

"Right." She bit her lip. "I can't believe this…Apology accepted."

Malfoy smiled a bit, making her blink because she had never seen him do so before. He looked even more different.

"That's got to be at least the fifth time I've said that in the past two months," she murmured to herself.

"What, 'apology accepted'?" Malfoy frowned and the smile was gone, leaving the room a little darker than before, Hermione thought absently.

"No, 'I can't believe this'."

"What else has been so surprising?"

"Oh, nothing really," she lied, shrugging. Then her eyes widened in horror as she saw Ron and Harry walk through the doors. "Get down!" She hissed to Malfoy.

"What?! Why?!" He asked, but complied and shrunk down in his seat.

"Ron and Harry just came in, looking for me. I'm going to get up, and walk over to them. Don't move until you hear the door chime."

"This is ridiculous," he muttered, but didn't move, and Hermione quickly distracted her friends, smiling and discreetly urging them out into the streets.

Christmas Eve found Hermione sitting in the common room, curled up in a chair with a book. Everyone around her was talking pleasantly, hushed in the muffling warmth of the fire and relaxing after the extravagant feast in the Great Hall.

The book Hermione was reading was the same one she had checked out weeks ago, about the alchemist William Dethridge. She was now entirely immersed and fascinated by the man's work and sudden disappearance, reading the book for at least the fifth time.

There was one certain trait about the man that completely baffled her. Apparently he had been found, several times, in such a deep state of meditation that the people in his town could not wake him, and took him for dead. Imagine their surprise when he sat up in his coffin during his funeral!

"'Mione, when are you going to get your nose out of that book?!"

Hermione looked up scowling to see Ron looming over her. "It's an interesting book, Ron. You don't have to be so rude."

He had been acting sour and irritable all week, but Hermione had taken it as some sort of boy phase and forgiven him. She figured it would pass soon enough, but when he was still grumpy, and on Christmas…Well, she almost wished he had just decided to go home instead of stay with her.

"I'm not being rude, you're ignoring me," he snapped.

She shut the book and put it on the side table next to her. "You just came into the common room, I didn't even see you until now." Her tone was hard.

"Well, you should notice when I come in," he huffed, flopping onto the couch and crossing his arms.

"Excuse me if I don't worship you like some…god or something!" She flung her hands up in exasperation. "You haven't been the most polite person lately either."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" He retorted.

"It means you've been a huge git the entire week!" She got to her feet.

All the people still in the common room who hadn't gone to bed yet were listening to their argument interestedly, Harry one of them, his face a mixture of inquisitiveness and anxiety.

"Bit rich coming from you!" Ron shouted, standing as well. He and Hermione were now almost nose-to-nose.

"Oh? And what have I done to disappoint his majesty?!"

"Well- you-" Ron sputtered, his face turning red.

"Exactly!" Hermione yelled, turning on her heel and stomping off towards the portrait hole.

"At least…At least _I_ didn't cheat on _you_!" Ron called from behind her.

Hermione froze and everyone held their breath.

"Excuse me?" Hermione growled, turning around again.

Ron nodded, regaining his confidence. "Yeah, yeah, that's right! I know! I saw you-"

"I've never cheated on you!" Hermione exclaimed furiously.

"YES YOU DID!" Ron thundered, making Hermione cringe. "I saw you in Hogsmeade- With Harry!" He pointed accusingly at his best friend, who was completely taken aback.

"Ron, what-" Harry stammered, stepping forward cautiously.

"Don't deny it! My best friend and my girlfriend!" Ron clenched his fists. "I can't believe I ever trusted you!"

Hermione ground her teeth. "Ugh, Ron, you complete idiot; I've never, ever in my life dated Harry! We're just friends!"

"Stop lying to me!" Ron cried. "I saw you go back into the Three Broomsticks, Harry, and I saw you two come out together, holding hands!"

Hermione and Harry just gaped at Ron, who was now panting and completely scarlet.

Slowly, another person moved forward. Ginny. "Ron," she said quietly, lightly putting her hand on her brother's arm. He tugged it away. "Ron, it wasn't Hermione you saw Harry with at Hogsmeade."

"Oh yeah? Well, who was it then?!"

Ginny let out a heavy breath. "It was me, you git."

Ron went slack-jawed, and Harry blushed profusely. Hermione shook her head, and then an expression of deep annoyance clouded up her countenance.

Harry walked over and took Ginny's hand. "Sorry we didn't tell you," he mumbled embarrassedly, "but it was just our first date and all…We didn't want to make a it a big deal until we, you know, made it official…"

"You? And him?" Ron asked weakly, looking from his little sister to Harry. They both nodded.

Hermione tapped her foot. "Well, seeing as we have that straightened out," she said coldly, "I think I'll head down to the library, where I might find a few more books to ignore you behind." She stormed out before anyone could say anything else.

Draco was sitting in the library, his feet propped up on a table in the back where Madam Pince couldn't catch him. He was only half-reading a book on the history of a famous inventing Vampire when Hermione stormed in, her face flushed.

He watched with mild interest as she randomly grabbed a book off the shelf, collapsed into a chair and literally stuck her face in it. He doubted the book was more than an inch away from her nose. He also noticed her shoulders were shaking, and he highly doubted it was laughter. The book she was 'reading' was titled _The Salem Witch Trials_. Hardly an amusing read. There was only one other explanation.

"Granger?" He said her name loudly. She didn't react. Draco was now sure the book was simply leaning against her forehead. "Hey, Granger!"

Sighing, he got up and walked over to her chair. "Have you suddenly gone deaf, Granger?"

"Sod off, Malfoy," she said from behind the book, her voice broken and muffled.

"Granger, honestly I would, but I have nowhere to actually _sod off_ to, so I'm afraid I'm just going to stay here until you talk to me." When she was silent, he promptly pulled the book out of her hands.

Her face was tearstained and still flushed pink, and she grabbed madly for the book. "I said, _sod off_!" She hastily wiped her eyes with her robes and glared up at him. "Why do you care, anyway…"

He shrugged. "So, what was Weasley accusing you of this time?"

She gasped. "How did you know that?!"

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly. "Now I do."

"Ugh, go away."

"Granger, I have no friends. I have no life. I have no _purpose_. My only reason for living is to hear you bawl out your thrilling angst-filled relationship with the Weasel."

"Don't call him that," she sniffled.

He sighed. "_Girls_…Hey, you know what? Come on." He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out of the chair.

She squealed. "Malfoy, what in hell are you-" She clawed angrily at his hand as he dragged her out of the library. "For the love of Merlin, let go of me!"

"Step lively, Granger!" He pulled her all the way to the grand staircase, her angry protestations echoing in the empty halls.

"Malfoy, if you don't let go of me _this instant_, I'll hex you all the way to…to...Erg, let go!"

He abruptly dropped her hand. "Granger, for once, I'm not luring you to a slow and painful death. Would it hurt to just trust me for a minute?" He tilted his head, then turned and rushed up the staircase. "Hurry before it moves!" He called to her, already climbing onto another.

Hermione struggled with herself, looking anxiously down the hall and then up the stairs. "Damn you, Malfoy!" She yelled, and then dashed after him.

He led her up what must've been at least five flights of stairs before she even had an inkling of where they might be headed. "Are we going to the Astronomy tower?" She shouted, as he was still quite a ways ahead of her.

"Brilliant deduction, Granger," he called back. She rolled her eyes.

They finally emerged out onto the tower, the chilly night air wrapping itself around them. Above, the clear sky was a sheet of black velvet, pinpricked with little gem-like stars.

"Wow," Hermione breathed, tilting her head back.

"Don't slow down yet, Granger," Draco said, standing in front of a blank stonewall as though inspecting it.

"What're you doing?"

He reached out with his wand and tapped three of the stone blocks. They shifted and formed a small archway, revealing a small set of stairs. Draco led her up them and onto an even higher, private tower.

"Where'd you learn that?" She asked.

"Oh, my mother told me about it. She said some group of students who called themselves 'Marauders' charmed it in her year and took their girlfriends up here."

Hermione immediately realized the heavy implications of Draco taking her up here, and blushed in the darkness.

"Don't get any ideas, Granger," Malfoy added teasingly, as though he had heard her thoughts. He leaned against the stone, hands in his pockets, and gazed up at the sky.

"D'you come up here often?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Just to think, sometimes," he replied absently.

"Why did you show it to me?"

He now turned his head and looked at her squarely. "You seemed like you needed to think."

"Oh." They were silent for a time, just admiring the stars and bright orb of the moon. Hermione leaned against the wall next to him. "Well, thanks," she mumbled quietly.

"No worries," he replied, glancing at her quickly. "Um, Granger?"

"Mhm?"

"Granger, I-" he paused and exhaled. "Can I call you Hermione while I say this? Granger seems so…formal."

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Sure," she replied after a time.

"Thanks," he said, sounding relieved. "Listen, Hermione, I just want you to know, I wasn't really…me…when I said all of those things about you, in the past."

"Er," Hermione stammered awkwardly.

"I mean, I was me, but I was only doing what I was trained to do. I was too young to think differently about what my father told me and what my future might turn out like and…I swear, if I could go back now and relive everything, I never would've acted like I did." He gave her a desperate look. "You can't believe how…guilty…and- and stupid I feel. You have to understand."

She looked up at him, an odd churning in the pit of her stomach. "I…think I do," she murmured, unsure.

He smiled slightly. "I'm not asking for forgiveness, I just need someone to understand that I've changed. I don't want to _just be_ 'Lucius Malfoy's son', I want to be _Draco_ Malfoy."

"I know," she said softly, and she realized with surprise that she actually did.

"Thanks," he said, quiet as a sigh. "Thanks, Hermione."

She smiled faintly. "Are we friends now, Draco?"

He laughed softly. "If you called me Draco, I guess we are."

She licked her lips. "…Weird."

"Very eloquent of you."

"Thanks. And, thanks for telling me all that. For trusting me."

"My pleasure," Draco replied. He took his hands out of his pockets, and their fingers brushed eachother just before Hermione pulled her hand away. "Sorry," Draco said quickly.

"No, that's-" She looked up at him to find he was staring straight back at her. "…Okay…" She finished slowly.

Almost reflexively, his head bent down. Hermione cautiously leaned forward, every cell in her body screaming with awareness.

Their lips met lightly at first, only just grazing eachother. Then, leisurely, the kiss deepened, and Hermione felt Draco's arm slip around the small of her back. She clutched the sleeve of his robe and pulled herself closer. Everything seemed like it was in slow motion, moving forward with caution and vigilance, neither one daring to take the next step.

Hermione felt the frostiness that the winter air had covered her body with ebb away and be replaced by an tingling warmth, her lips the furnace. It was odd, because she had always imagined Draco like a chip of ice, but now everything was heat and flame, their bodies fusing together.

When Draco pulled away, still slowly, Hermione kept her eyes closed for a moment, trying to instill the feeling in her skin, to keep it forever. But the cold night soon returned, and she sadly opened her eyes.

Draco was looking at her fearfully, like he was just waiting for her to blow up in his face.

She blinked, opening and closing her mouth. Finally, she managed to whisper, "oh."

And then she kissed him again.

It past midnight when Hermione returned to Gryffindor tower, saying goodnight to Draco at the stairs with a sweet, lingering kiss. When she stepped back, she lightly grasped his hand in hers. "What now?"

Draco brushed his hair out of his eyes subconsciously. "Well…You already have a boyfriend." She winced and he sighed. "I can't promise that I'll always be there for you," he told her softly. "And if we ever had, you know…a…_relationship_…Lots of people would be angry with you. I mean, the entire school loathes me."

"What if we kept it a secret?" She whispered.

He stared at her. "You would do that?"

She smiled thoughtfully. "If I decide you're worth it."

His mouth formed a lopsided grin. "And when will you decide that?"

She leaned forward and gave him a light peck on the lips. "Meet me tomorrow, back at the astronamy tower. Around three o'clock." She let go of his hand and turned away. "Good night."

Harry and Ginny were sitting in front of the fire when she climbed through the portrait hole. They both stood up when they saw her, smiling in relief. "Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, coming over and hugging her tightly.

"We were worried about you," Ginny murmured. "Here, sit down." She motioned to the spot on the couch next to her.

"Why were you worried?" Hermione asked, taking a seat, along with Harry on Ginny's other side. She was a little disappointed that Ron wasn't there, but then decided she wouldn't be able to handle seeing him anyways.

"We thought you might do something…er…naïve," Harry admitted.

Hermione laughed lightly. "No, I'm fine, really."

"You are?" He asked incredulously, looking a little bewildered.

"What are you going to say? To Ron, I mean," Ginny questioned, looking a little suspicious.

Hermione sighed. "Okay, maybe I'm not fine. But I'm not in a blind rage any more."

"He was really embarrassed after you left," Ginny told her matter-of-factly. "Everyone glared at him and he just rushed upstairs. He wouldn't talk to Harry when he went up either."

Hermione couldn't help but feel a little smug. "Well, honestly, I would be too if I had falsely accused my boyfriend of chea…" She drifted off in midsentence.

"Hermione?" Harry gave her an anxious look as she paled considerably. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Oh no," Hermione groaned, putting her head in her hands. Ron accused her of cheating. What had she done? Went and cheated on him. With _Draco Malfoy_, no less.

"Hermione?" Harry repeated. "You didn't…You didn't actually cheat on him at Hogsmeade, did you?"

"No!" Hermione replied quickly, and truthfully. Then she added quietly, "not at Hogsmeade…"

"What?!" Ginny exclaimed. "You mean, you _have_ cheated on him?!"

Hermione stood up quickly. "I don't know!" She cried, and ran up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.

The next morning, Hermione got up early and rushed down to breakfast, determined to avoid her friends. She knew Ginny and Harry would be after her about last night, and the last thing she wanted was for them to find out what she had done. If only they knew Draco like she did! Well, maybe not _exactly_ like she did…But still.

She figured the first place they would look for her was the library, so she randomly chose a few books and, around eleven, plowed through the snow to Hagrid's.

"Well 'Ermione, certainly haven't seen you in a while!" Hagrid said, smiling warmly as she brushed the white flakes from her cloak.

"Sorry I haven't come around," she said sincerely. "I've been really…preoccupied. Is it okay if I read here for a while?"

"Of course." He pulled her up a chair and started boiling some water to make tea. "It's righ' nice to see ya and all, but if you don't mind me askin', why can't you read in the lib'ry?"

"Er…" She bit her lip. "I just…didn't want to be interrupted. That's all." True enough, she thought to herself.

After several hours of reading and gnawing her way through Hagrid's treacle tarts, Hermione looked at the clock and saw it was already two o'clock. She supposed she could go early to the astronamy tower and wait for Draco…Though it would be awfully cold…

"Thanks again, Hagrid," she said, giving him a quick hug and dragging her feet back to the school.

She only ran into a few people, since most of the students were away for the holidays, and just as she thought she might make it without one of her friends seeing her, a hideously familiar voice called to her when she was stepping onto one of the staircases. She turned around to see Harry standing there, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.

"Hi Harry," she greeted him weakly. He almost ran down the corridor and grabbed onto her arm, as though afraid she would disappear again.

"Hermione! Everyone's been looking for you! Where've you been?"

"Oh, I had things to do," she mumbled. Harry's smile quickly faded.

"I've been meaning to ask you about last night-" He started.

"Harry, can we please talk about this later?" She begged him.

He hesitated, then said, "If you were cheating on Ron…"

"I…I wasn't…Only…Just last night, I…" She stammered, looking at the floor.

"If it was last night, when you were angry, I guess I can understand…" Harry said slowly, thinking hard.

Hermione suddenly grabbed onto both of his robe sleeves and looked him in the eye. "I wasn't thinking properly!" She cried desperately. "I'm honestly sorry, Harry, I- Well, sort of sorry, anyways, but really- If I had thought of it as cheating then, I wouldn't have kissed him! I wouldn't've, I swear…" She burst into tears and sunk to her knees. "I wouldn't have kissed Draco…I love Ron…I would never cheat…" She mumbled between sobs.

Harry kneeled to match her and lightly held her shoulders. "Hermione, stop crying, please stop, it's okay…Did you say Draco?"

She immediately stopped crying and froze, looking at her knees in horror.

Harry released her shoulders suddenly, as though he had touched something with a disease. "Hermione, you didn't kiss Draco Malfoy…He must've seduced you, or cursed you, or poisoned your drink, or- or something! He's a complete prat, Hermione, how could-"

She jumped to her feet. "Don't talk about him like that!" She yelled hoarsly. "You don't even know what he's like now!"

Harry gaped at her. "You _did_ kiss him?!"

Hermione groaned, then turned and dashed up the stairs and out of his sight before Harry could do anything.

* * *

**Honestly, I'm never writing late at night again. That was awful. I really did NOT like that chapter. This story is so much better when Snape's around. I promise you (and myself) he'll be in the next chapter.**

**-sigh- I think I'll go drool over some more Alan Rickman pictures…**

**Sarah - xoxox**


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